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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23610877">Easter Gone Wrong</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/DiscipleOfBrad/pseuds/DiscipleOfBrad'>DiscipleOfBrad</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Domestic Fluff, Easter, Easter Egg Hunt, Easter Eggs, F/M, Fluff, the doctor's a forgetful idiot</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 15:56:09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,534</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23610877</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/DiscipleOfBrad/pseuds/DiscipleOfBrad</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>All the Doctor wanted to do was surprise Clara with the greatest chocolate in the known universe. But it's never simple when those two are involved.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Twelfth Doctor/Clara Oswin Oswald</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>29</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Easter Gone Wrong</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Happy Easter! A short little one-shot to tide over your Twelve/Clara needs. Enjoy!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>   Clara really did enjoy Sundays. Maybe not as much as Wednesdays, for obvious reasons, but they were the second-best day of the week. She could have a lie-in, drink copious amounts of tea, watch rubbish tv, lounge about and put off any thoughts of the impending school week to the back of her mind. But today was the greatest of Sundays because she knew Coal Hill was closed on Monday too. Oh, bank holidays. She’d seen some wonders in the universe, travelled to the most beautiful of planets, interacted with the most curious species the mad old Time Lord could show her. But nothing quite compared to the feeling of her bed on a Bank Holiday Monday. In a word...spectacular. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>   That’s how it should have been anyway. It had started off alright. She’d had the lie in. She’d gone through four mugs already. She’d even had the audacity to nip to the local shop to top up on milk in case her drinking habits exceeded the capacity of her rather small fridge. She was looking forward to switching on the television when she returned, get back into her pyjamas and just...switch off. So why was an ancient blue box inconveniently parked in the corridor of her apartment? She dropped her shopping bags to the floor in frustration, wondering why he had chosen today of all days to pop by. It wasn’t that she didn't enjoy being whisked away to the long-gone past or distant future (it was, in the fact, the greatest aspect of her life even if she was hesitant to tell the Doctor just that). But, for a Time Lord, he probably had the worst timing of any person she had ever met. And she taught teenagers. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>   Clara found him hunched over on the floor in what she called the living room, although it was no more than a small sofa and a rug, investigating something under the table. She could hear the unmistakable sound of the sonic screwdriver whirring, a faint green glow emanating from where she presumed his face was. With her hands on her hips, she coughed loudly into her hand to get his attention. Some of her frustrations dissipated when she saw him bang his head on the table in surprise, shouting out in some unintelligible Gallifreyan insult. Or it might have been him embracing his Scottish side. She could never truly tell. As he stood, his black jacket billowing slightly to show off a glimpse of the red lining within, he looked at her incredulously. No, that wasn’t right. She was the one who was meant to be angry! Not him!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   “Where have you been?” he asked accusingly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   “Excuse me? I live here!” she defended vehemently. “I’m allowed to go to the shops when I need something, Doctor!” He began chewing on one of his fingernails, which she knew meant that he was worried about something. This wasn’t good.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   “Oh, this is a catastrophe,” he muttered. “You weren’t meant to be gone. It would have worked out perfectly if you hadn’t gone out gallivanting.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   “Doctor,” she said in a low, dangerous voice. “What have you done?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   “Well, I wanted to do something nice. So, I turned your apartment into an elaborate easter egg hunt.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   “Why would you do that?!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   “...because it’s Easter. I have got the date right, haven’t I? I asked the Tardis nicely to land when I wanted for a change.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   “Yes, it is Easter. Otherwise known as my lovely long weekend off from work. So you better start explaining why you’re so concerned about some chocolate eggs. Oh, no...they better not be some weird alien eggs and they’re going to start hatching under my bed or something!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   “Of course not! They’re chocolate! The best chocolate. I made sure to go to this planet called Entrudia in the Concordia System where they celebrate Easter every day. Although it’s slightly different. The Easter Bunny gets to eat the person who collects the least. Never trust the Easter Bunny. But the chocolate is a delicacy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   “Then why have you got that worried look on your face?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   “There’s another element to their festivities. People are given a time limit to find them all otherwise...they start...exploding,” he admitted sheepishly. Her eyes were deep pits of fiery anger as she stepped closer to him, poking him hard in the chest as she spoke each word.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   “Why would you put exploding eggs in my apartment?!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   “I actually hid them yesterday. The plan was that you’d find them all, I’d return triumphantly to see you with a horde of chocolate and I’d get to take a photo of you with it all around your mouth. That’s what people do on Easter, isn’t it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   “Doctor...how would I have known to look for them if you didn't tell me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   “...ah. Didn't think about that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   “No, you didn't. But surely you remember where you put them.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   “That’s the other thing. I hid them yesterday but </span>
  <em>
    <span>your</span>
  </em>
  <span> yesterday. I’m a busy man. Spent a couple of months dealing with a rogue fish that was terrorising a small port. So...I’ve forgotten.” She was going to hit him. Slap him. Strangling him sounded like a very cathartic activity. But she needed to save her apartment. Finding another place in London close to the school would be an impossible task. Clenching her fist, she took him by the ear and made him start looking for them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>   They found two stuck deep inside her sofa, alongside a few pennies and, surprisingly, one of the Doctor’s sonics. He’d remarked that he had been wondering where that had got to, being forced to apologise to his time machine as he asked for a new one. There was another in her fridge, hidden amongst the other normal eggs. He’d said that he wanted to make it somewhat difficult for her and she’d contemplated throwing one of them at him. Then they’d moved into her bedroom, discovering one in her sock drawer (she wasn’t too pleased that he’d been rifling around her underwear but he didn't seem too fussed) and one had replaced the bulb in her bedside lamp. She’d wondered why it hadn’t been working.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   “It’s not often I get you in my bedroom for such a long time,” she’d remarked with a grin, wanting to annoy him. She was actually beginning to enjoy this despite the threat it posed to her livelihood. It was what they did and she guessed it was sweet that he had wanted to do something special for her, regardless of how dangerous it ended up being. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>   “Well, you’re not a young woman now. Maybe I’m the best you’re going to get. Aren’t you lucky?” This time, she had decided to throw a cushion at his head as he popped back up from looking under her bed. Probably just to hide the fact that she wasn’t too disappointed at that fact. Putting his quirks to one side, she couldn’t think of anyone else she’d rather be spending Easter with, which was a rather troubling mindset to have. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>   In the end, it had taken just over an hour to find all of the chocolate eggs, the most annoying one being when she’d seen one on top of her cupboard but hadn’t been able to reach. He’d actually avoided the temptation to insult her height like he normally did. Either he was learning to be scared of her or he was actually growing soft on her. She couldn’t decide which was the more pleasing prospect. They now sat on the sofa, Clara finally able to watch her rubbish television, as they tucked into the ‘gifts’ he had gotten her. She was mildly confused when he reached a hand over to her, only to find out he was wiping the corner of her mouth where some chocolate had gotten, much to her embarrassment. She was surprised at how..affectionate he had been throughout this mini escapade and, with a small smile, she had rested her head on his shoulder, thankful to hear no complaints on his side. This had turned out to be one of her favourite Sundays for a long time. She glanced at him and saw him observing the eggs in front of them as well as all the wrappers. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>   “What is it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   “Well, it’s funny. I’m sure I got you twenty eggs but I can only make out nineteen. But we looked everywhere. Maybe I just counted wrong.” As he said that, they heard a small bang come from the kitchen. Clara shot up with wide eyes, turning her ire back onto the Doctor. “Oh, yes! The microwave. I completely forgot about that. Old age, you see?” He noticed her angry glare and wilted under her gaze. “My mistake. I’ll...get you a new one. An even better one.” He playfully ruffled her hair, making her even more annoyed than before. “Happy Easter, Clara Oswald.” She let out a sigh. She could never be truly annoyed at him. She got back into position, nicking a piece of chocolate from his hand just as he was about to eat. She smirked at the sight of his furrowed bushy eyebrows.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>   “Happy Easter, Doctor.”</span>
</p>
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